


Indecent Recreational Activities

by starrysummernights



Series: As the Summer Rains Fall [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Greg Lestrade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Dirty Talk, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Mycroft, Omega Verse, Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, and Greg loves it just the same, but Mycroft tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:58:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrysummernights/pseuds/starrysummernights
Summary: “Tell me what you did.”“I’ve already told you.”“Tell me again.”Mycroft licked his lips, nervous anticipation curling through him. He couldn’t believe he was really going to do this. “In the past, I would visit this spot when I had the time for recreational pursuits. Which didn’t happen often.” He said, and the man behind him chuckled. “But I would always make sure to arrive here when…when I knew my Guard would be training.”Mycroft was rewarded for his candor with large hands gripping at his hips, kneading the flesh which was still hidden by his trousers. He relaxed into the familiar touch, eyes slipping closed.“Go on.”





	Indecent Recreational Activities

**Author's Note:**

> This little one-shot takes place sometime a few months in the future. I'll be honest, I just wanted to write Mycroft and Greg having sex on that damn balcony.

“Tell me what you did.”

The low voice in his ear sent a shudder down Mycroft’s spine, raising goose bumps despite the oppressive heat of the day. Spread out below him were the various outbuildings of the palace and the barracks and stables, all of which seemed listless beneath the cloudless blue sky. Everyone had done their work earlier that morning, as quickly as possible, so they could retreat inside to escape the burning sun later that day. Beyond the roofs of those buildings, and beyond the tall wall protecting the palace, Mycroft could see the city of Marseille, bustling and alive despite the temperature. The image of it shimmered as heat rose off of it in visible waves. Mycroft squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun and stared down at the training yard as he had so many times in the past. Only this time, it was empty.

He braced his hands on the balustrade of the balcony, and the warmth of the stone seeped into his palms, the heat of which was nothing compared to the blush currently decorating his cheeks. “I’ve already told you.”

“Tell me again.”

Mycroft licked his lips, nervous anticipation curling through him. He couldn’t believe he was really going to do this. “In the past, I would visit this spot when I had the time for recreational pursuits. Which didn’t happen _often_.” He said, and the man behind him chuckled. “But I would always make sure to arrive here when…when I knew my Guard would be training.”

Mycroft was rewarded for his candor with large hands gripping at his hips, kneading the flesh which was still hidden by his trousers. He relaxed into the familiar touch, eyes slipping closed.

“Go on.”

“I would come to this spot and…Well, first I would make certain no one could see me-“

“Why?”

“Why what?” Mycroft asked, even though he very much knew what the man was asking. He just didn’t want to say it.

“Why didn’t you want anyone to see you?”

Mycroft huffed in embarrassment, and as if to ease his discomfort, the hands moved from his hips to the front of his trousers, silently encouraging him. Fingers toyed with the laces which held his trousers together, a cheeky tease to let him know what he could have, if only he’d just cooperate.

“You know why.”

The hands went back to Mycroft’s hips at his show of noncompliance, and he squirmed, wanting them back where they’d been.

“Please?”

“Not until you tell me why.” The voice insisted. “Why didn’t you want anyone to see you?”

There was nothing else for it. Mycroft grit his teeth and determinedly confessed- “I didn’t want anyone to see me because I planned to pleasure myself while I watched my Guard training.”

“Well done, sweetheart.” The voice purred, and then the hands were back at the front of his trousers, undoing the laces with easy familiarity. Mycroft’s cock, which had only been half-interested in the proceedings, the peculiarity of the entire situation dampening his ardor, perked up. He closed his eyes again, relaxing even further against the body pressed along his back, and received a kiss to the side of his neck, above his high collar, as reward.

“I would sometimes come here and watch as my Guard trained,” Mycroft repeated and the words slipped out easier when he felt the press of the other man’s erection against the curve of his arse. “and I would t-touch myself…while I did.”

Fingers slipped inside the front of his trousers but stopped just short of his crotch where the riot of curly ginger hairs began.

“You came to watch the whole Guard?” The voice prodded. Mycroft shook his head.

“No.”

The fingers teased through his pubic hair, so close to his cock but still achingly far away.

“Then who…?”

“I came to watch…that is, I wanted to see someone…in particular.”

“And who would that be, sweetheart?”

Mycroft pushed his hips forward in a silent plea, but he already knew he’d have to keep talking in order to get what he wanted. He took a moment to strengthen his resolve, reminding himself that the reward would be worth it, then- “I came to see…my- my Captain.”

Sure enough, at his stilted confession, rough fingers wrapped around his cock. Mycroft choked back a moan. His trousers were much too tight for proper strokes, but the fingers rhythmically squeezed and released his sensitive flesh, fondling him until Mycroft’s breathing was shallow and he was bucking his hips in earnest.

“What an improper thing for a Prince to do.” The voice teased while its owner began rocking his own erection against Mycroft’s arse with renewed purpose. “So _vulgar_ , Mycroft, _touching yourself_ in broad daylight like that.”

“I know.” Mycroft's blush deepened, embarrassment mixing with his arousal in a confusing blend . He leaned his head back until it rested on the man’s shoulder. Kisses were trailed up his neck to his ear, the lobe of which was given a gentle nip. “I knew it was very unseemly but I couldn’t…I had to see him.”

“Mm. Why? Didn’t you see enough of him during the day?”

“Y-yes. It’s true. I saw him all the time, but…but when I watched him training with the Guard…he was…I knew for a fact that he would be… _unclothed_.”

The man growled and then Mycroft’s trousers were yanked down over his hips, exposing him to the hot, summer air. His cock jerked in the man’s fist and when Mycroft moved he could feel wetness slicking between his arse cheeks. It felt sinful doing this out-of-doors, on the balcony in the open air, high above everything. It’d taken a while for Mycroft to be convinced it was safe, and a few times visiting this spot and ascertaining for himself, before he agreed. It was a secluded spot. No one could see them unless they were directly across from them…but no other building was higher than the palace. Protected on both sides by curtains with the doors to this particular room locked behind him, there was no one else around except Mycroft and the Alpha at his back who was intent on debauching him.

Which was fine. Mycroft loved when this Alpha debauched him. After all, he was very, very good at it.

Hands maneuvered him, instructing Mycroft to grip at the balustrade before pulling his hips back so that his arse stuck out coquettishly. With his trousers bunched around his knees, it was a very obscene position for one to be in. Obviously asking to be fucked. 

“Then what would you do, sweetheart?”

Mycroft’s mouth fell open when he felt the hard ridge of the other man’s cock gliding along the cleft of his arse. The man didn’t thrust or even dip inside to feel Mycroft’s wetness, but kept rutting against him in a leisurely manner while Mycroft began to tremble with need. He blinked sweat from his eyes, feeling overheated, and tried to push back against the man’s cock- but hands held Mycroft firmly in place.

Dammit.

“Then, I’d…I’d watch him training. With swords. Sometimes hand-to-hand combat. And while I did, I…would begin t-touching myself…”

“Gods above.” The man draped himself along Mycroft’s back, letting Mycroft feel the heaviness of him pressing him down, keeping Mycroft right where he wanted him. Mycroft enjoyed it better when the man was pressing him down into the softness of his own mattress, but this was just as delicious. “What’d you think about?”

“Nothing. I just watched him. He…I loved to w-watch the way he moved and his…the way his muscles looked during exertions.” It was embarrassing saying these things aloud, but Mycroft’s shame was tempered not only by his own arousal, but also by the excited breaths of the man behind him whose cock was starting to leave trails of precome in its wake, which dried almost immediately in the humid air.

“Fuck, Mycroft…” The man ground against him, his hands roaming down Mycroft’s hip to touch his cock again, teasing at the head. Mycroft pushed back, wanting him to stop the teasing and get on with it-

And suddenly had a brilliant idea.

“I wanted more.” He breathed, knowing the man would be hanging on his every word. “I would touch myself but…but I w-wanted him to come to me…unclothed…because I’d never really seen…I’d not been able to…And I wanted him…just as he was, still smelling of s…sweat and dirty from hard training…”

The man froze behind him, breath noticeably hitching. “Oh my gods.”

“I wanted him to put…put his hands- the same hands I watched wielding a sword or sparring with his soldiers…put them all over me. Touch…me. And…h-hold me down while he…while he took me.”

“Oh, gods, Mycroft-“

The man was abruptly moving, pushing his cock between Mycroft’s arse cheeks and nudging at his entrance which was already wet with his natural lubricant. Mycroft heard the man’s breath catch again, then sigh out in a long moan-

“Take me, Captain.”

Gregory needed no more provocation. He shoved into Mycroft, sheathing himself inside with one smooth drive of his hips. They both gasped, each relieved at the stretch and tightness, the fullness and heat, and Gregory immediately began thrusting, neither of them wanting to prolong this any further. Mycroft bucked, feeling shameless, fighting for a quick end to his own pleasure and Gregory’s hands were at his hips, eagerly pulling Mycroft back onto his cock hard. He gripped him tightly. Too tightly. It hurt. Gregory’s fingers were sure to leave bruises on Mycroft’s pale skin, but the throbs of pain fed into the kaleidoscopic high Mycroft already felt- and he’d love nothing more than to poke and prod at the bruises later that night, remembering the way Gregory had touched him and what they’d done and how fervent their sexual congress had been.

And Mycroft knew that when he showed Gregory the visible proof of how he’d marked him, the Alpha would take the time to kiss each and every bruise. He’d lave over them until Mycroft was squirming…and then he would kiss and lave over the other parts of Mycroft’s anatomy to ostensibly check for soreness…then spend the rest of the night doing his best to guarantee Mycroft was even more sore the following morning. Mycroft couldn’t wait.

“I w-wanted my Captain to t-take me.” The pressure was building inside him, piercing. “I wanted him to take me as…as roughly as he c-could…h-hold me down in the bed…in the bed and make me…make me scream with pleasure-“

Gregory gave a tormented groan, thrusting as hard as he could, every rough shove of his hips causing Mycroft’s pleasure to pool and press and ache so sweetly though him.

“I would touch myself and…and imagine…it was h-him-” Mycroft broke off with a sharp gasp, feeling his orgasm beginning to expand beneath his skin, the pressure at the base of his spine burgeoning-

“Sh-show me. Please, gods. Mycroft…please, please show me.” Gregory’s thrusts were losing rhythm, gracelessly shoving himself inside Mycroft in an increasingly wild, anxious cadence. They were both close. It wouldn’t take much. Mycroft wrapped a hand around his straining erection, sobbing from the stimulation as he stroked himself. “Gods above- yes, sweetheart…Gods, yes…fucking gorgeous- T-touch yourself for me, Mycroft…”

He already was. He couldn’t have stopped even if Gregory wanted him to. Mycroft’s brow furrowed, heat streaking down thighs-

“I’m going to come!” He urgently gasped, twisting as his orgasm crested. “I’m going to- Gregory, _please_ -!”

Gregory knew what he needed, his hand pressing hard against Mycroft’s mouth to muffle his cries as he came. Mycroft breathed harshly through his nose as he rode out the waves of an orgasm which flashed through his body like lightening, quick and tingling, and he whimpered when he felt Gregory releasing inside him, huffing out quiet moans against Mycroft’s back while his hips still twitched forward in small thrusts.

Mycroft’s legs were shaking when they finally parted. Gregory pulled out of his arse in a rush of semen and wetness, the feeling of which made Mycroft wrinkle his nose in displeasure. Not that he was fussy. Not in the least. He’d both shared and consumed plenty of body fluids in sexually-related settings with Gregory. Mycroft had no qualms about that. But it was one thing to feel himself _leaking_ in his bedroom…but quite another thing to feel it out-of-doors and still half-dressed.

He was uncoordinated after being so gloriously fucked by his Captain, and Mycroft allowed himself to be leaned against the balustrade so Gregory could clean him up a bit. Mycroft fidgeted when Gregory swiped between his arse cheeks, cleaning him of wetness and semen so he could get dressed. It was a necessity, of course, but one Mycroft didn’t particularly enjoy. It made him feel like a child- but it made Gregory feel good to take care of him so Mycroft let it happen. Sometimes.

Finally, he pulled up his trousers and set to work redoing the laces at the front, casting a jealous glance at Gregory who was already fully dressed. He hadn’t had to even undress, really- merely pull out his cock and begin fucking. A perk of being an Alpha, but Mycroft couldn’t complain too much because he himself was presentable within a minute and he straightened, tugging at the cuffs of his shirt and checking to make sure there were no telling fluids anywhere on his person.

“Well?” He spun around with his arms outstretched so the Alpha could inspect him.

“Well what?”

“How do I look?”

Gregory grinned, giving him a kiss and moving his lips over Mycroft’s with an ease that made his heart flutter and skip. “You look beautiful. As you always do.”

“I was aiming for respectable.”

“You’re that too. Beautiful and respectable and perfectly presentable. No one would ever guess you’d just got done being fucked by your Captain.”

“I should hope not.” Mycroft said meaningfully and Greg smiled, but it was somewhat rueful and didn’t reach his eyes.

Mycroft wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

* * *

 

Mycroft Holmes was going to be the death of him.

Greg trailed behind his Prince, marveling at the sedate way the Omega moved through the palace. Dignified, his head held high, Mycroft serenely strolled down the hallways as if he hadn’t a care in the world, being bowed to and nodding in return, cool as you please- as if he hadn’t just got done being fucked on a balcony while he confessed to all sorts of licentious activities. Greg would never stop being amazed at Mycroft’s unflappable control over the façade he presented to the world, fooling everyone into believing he was heartless and cold. Untouchable.

For some reason, it made Greg want to fuck him again. Grab Mycroft and haul him into one of the empty rooms they were passing. Lock the door. Strip him out of his clothes and touch him. Everywhere. Spread him out. Suck his cock. Lick at his hole. Trail (gentle) bites down his thighs. Do all that he could until Mycroft was loose and wet and hard and no longer so composed. His hair mussed and muscles jumping, moaning with a desperate look in his eye, reaching for Greg as if he needed him.

Maybe it was wrong, but Greg loved watching Mycroft break down like that and show who he really was and how he really felt…which didn’t happen all that often, Greg thought with a dissatisfied pang.

They arrived at the council room where Mycroft would spend the afternoon with his advisors (arguing about something tedious like grain production, Greg could never remember and he didn’t try), but before he opened the door, Mycroft turned. He met Greg’s eyes, his own sparkling with an inner mischievousness, and gave him a smile so happy and content and stunning that Greg took a step forward, reaching for him before he was even aware of doing it.

When he did realize, he quickly dropped his hand. Stepped back. Kept a respectful distance.

Greg _ached_ to touch Mycroft again. Kiss him. Caress his cheek. Hold his hand. Brush their shoulders together. None of that, however, would be allowed to happen for hours.

It was a small consolation, but Greg knew he’d get to do all of the things he yearned to do to Mycroft during the day when he snuck into his bedroom that night. That night, he would have Mycroft all to himself, with no one to interfere and no appointments to keep, and he could spend hours showering the object of his affection with as much love and adoration as it was possible to pack into a few short hours which were over too soon…because Greg always had to leave. Before dawn. Before the real world began again, encroaching into their happiness…

And another day would start in which Greg was kept at a distance by Mycroft, coolly spoken to, treated as a Captain of the Guard should be treated, all while he longed for more- which he would only be given at night. The cycle repeated itself, over and over and over and over and…

It was torture. Painfully excruciating, exquisite, glorious torture.

Greg followed Mycroft into the council room, a hollow pit opening in his stomach even while he earnestly, as the gods were his witness, looked forward to that night as if his life depended on it. Sometimes, it felt like it really did.

Mycroft Holmes was going to be the death of him, he knew…but what a godsdamn glorious end.


End file.
